


Memento Vivere

by Moit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Angst, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Mindfuck, Physical Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, Slash, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-12
Updated: 2010-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-08 20:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4319151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moit/pseuds/Moit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucius finds himself in a quandary when his beloved pet tries to escape and then wakes up with no recollection of the past two years in his life. With no other options, Lucius must retrain his pet in the hopes that he will get his memory back in time. Meanwhile, Harry is struggling with conflicting emotions. He does not remember being Lucius Malfoy's pet, but at the same time finds himself inexplicably drawn to the man for other reasons than being at his mercy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic begins to diverge from canon at the end of HBP for obvious reasons.

Harry jerked awake. Immediately, he noticed, he couldn’t see a thing, nor could he move anything other than his head. Taking stock of himself, he realized he was tethered spread-eagle to something — a bed?  
  
“Draco?” he called out meekly, silently hoping this was just a dream.  
  
“Easy, Pet,” a deep voice said as a hand stroked the fringe back from his sweaty forehead.  
  
“Is the memory loss going to be permanent?” The same voice asked.  
  
“No, he should regain his memory within a few weeks at the most. Worst case scenario is that it will take months. But I’d wager that’s highly unlikely,” a new voice answered.  
  
“Draco?” Harry tried again. This time his voice quivered, betraying his fear, “Draco, what’s going on?”  
  
“Lucius, maybe you should let him rest,” the second voice said.  
  
“Lucius!” Harry cried. He struggled at his bonds to no avail. “This isn’t funny anymore! Let me go! Let me-“  
  
Lucius placed a hand over Harry’s mouth and Harry promptly bit him. Without warning, Lucius smacked the boy across the cheek with a loud crack. Harry remained silent, but he kept his face turned away, the red handprint blossoming like a blush across his pale cheek.  
  
Taking Harry’s chin in his hand, Lucius turned Harry’s face back to him. “Love, I know everything is confusing right now. That’s because you’re suffering slight memory loss from the punishment.”  
  
“P-punishment?”  
  
Lucius sighed, rubbing his thumb over the bruise developing on Harry’s cheekbone. “How much should I tell him?” he asked the second voice.  
  
There was a moment of silence.  
  
“He’s your pet. But I would recommend you tell him as much as you wish he know.”  
  
“What is the last thing you remember, lovely?” Lucius asked, addressing Harry once more.  
  
Harry’s bare chest quivered as he took in a long, shaky breath. “I- I was in the A-stronomy Tower with D-Draco.” He took another breath, desperately trying to calm himself. His pink tongue darted out to whet his parched lips.  
  
“Drizzle, get my pet some water,” Lucius interrupted.  
  
Harry heard a loud crack! before a goblet of cold — blessedly cold! — water was placed against his lips. He drank deeply and then sank back into the pillow behind his head.  
  
“Continue.”  
  
Harry screwed his eyes up tightly behind the blindfold, as though it would help him remember. “Draco and I were in the Astronomy Tower. We had just finished — well we weren’t exactly prepared to be stormed by Death Eaters. One of them grabbed Draco and the other grabbed me and —“ he stopped, turning his head away from the direction of Lucius’s voice. “That’s the last thing I remember,” he finished quietly.  
  
The bed Harry was laying on shifted abruptly as Lucius stood up. “You didn’t tell me he would forget the last two years.”  
  
“I swear, Mr. Malfoy, I did not know this could happen.”  
  
“Imbicile!” Lucius growled. “Get out!”  
  
The sound of someone packing a bag quickly and shuffling across the floor and a door clicking shut was the only thing Harry heard before the room was pitched into silence.  
  
“Lucius?” he asked softly, as though the very sound of his voice would further the man’s wrath.  
  
“Yes, pet?”  
  
“Where is Draco?”  
  
“He’s dead,” Lucius answered curtly. His footsteps echoed across the bare floor until Harry heard the door open and close, leaving him to mourn the loss of his beloved alone, in the dark, tethered to a bed for a reason he did not know.  
  
Harry awoke sometime later. He couldn’t tell how much later because the blindfold was still over his eyes but his arms and legs were beginning to hurt from being tied for so long.  
  
“Lucius?” he called out, hopefully.  
  
A sharp crack! and, “Drizzle is here to serve Master’s pet.”  
  
Lifting his head — the only thing he could move — Harry looked to his right, in the direction of the voice. “My name is Harry,” he said, defeated, and dropped his head back on the pillow. The blindfold felt stiff and sticky due to his crying himself to sleep the previous — night? Day? Harry had no idea.  
  
“Can Drizzle help Master’s pet?”  
  
“Yes,” Harry answered automatically, “you can bloody well untie me!”  
  
“Drizzle cannot untie Master’s pet. Does Master’s pet need some water?” the elf asked, hopefully.  
  
“Where is Lucius?” Harry asked, ignoring the creature’s questions.  
  
“Master is out for the day. Master will attend to his pet when he returns.”  
  
“How long will that be?” Harry asked, his frustration growing with every minute.  
  
“About five hours. Can Drizzle fluff Master’s pet’s pillow?”  
  
“That won’t be necessary, Drizzle,” the unmistakable voice of Lucius Malfoy said. Harry heard his boots clicking across the floor. He shuddered involuntarily as the sound got closer to his prone form. He felt a slight gust of wind and shivered involuntarily, noticing, not for the first time, that he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. He shivered again, but this time not from a chill.  
  
“Yes, Sir. Drizzle is always serving Master, Sir.” Another crack! and Harry knew he was once again alone with the Master of the house.  
  
“Still having problems with that pesky memory, pet?” The boots clicked closer, and although Harry steeled himself for it, the bed did not dip with Lucius’s weight.  
  
“What do you keep calling me that? Pet?” Harry shot back, his bold streak showing itself once again. “And why am I tied to this bed? And why am I wearing this bloody blindfold!” His chest heaved with the force of his breath.  
  
“Now, now, lovely.” A hand smoothed itself down Harry’s bare chest, making him painfully aware of how truly nude his was — a fact which he had tried to ignore previously. “The blindfold and the ropes were just for your protection. If you promise to play nice, I’ll remove them. However, one wrong move and you’ll find yourself in the dungeon faster than you can say,” he paused, Harry’s veins turning cold with the anticipation, “Draco Malfoy.”  
  
Harry clenched his teeth and counted to ten silently. “You have my word,” he answered finally.  
  
“Brilliant.”  
  
Immediately, the ropes binding Harry and the blindfold covering his eyes disappeared as though by evaporation. All at once, Harry opened his eyes and attempted to pull his sore limbs closer to himself. “Argh!” he cried, turning his face away from the bright light.  
  
“Ahh, yes,” Lucius murmured, “you might allow your eyes time to adjust to the light.”  
  
From behind his eyelids, Harry could tell Lucius dimmed the lights for his benefit. He cracked one eye open carefully, to keep himself from being blinded a second time. This time, however, he noticed that his eyes were nearly glued together with dried tears and the crust from sleeping. From what little he could see without his glasses, he could tell there was a blurry shape sitting next to him, but other than that the contents of the room looked like little more than a mess of colours blended together.  
  
“Where are my glasses?” Harry asked.  
  
“All in good time, my little lion,” Lucius answered, smoothly. “Tell me, after your little outburst yesterday, do you remember anything yet?”  
  
Harry attempted to pull himself into a seated position, noticing for the first time the heavy bandages wound around his feet and the pain he felt when he tried to lay them flat against the bed. He cried out, straightening his legs to ease the discomfort.  
  
“What happened to my feet?” He asked, panicked, instead of answering Lucius’s question.  
  
“Oh, that.” Lucius merely glanced downward, as though he had only just noticed the bandages. “I suppose you wouldn’t remember trying to run away, either?”  
  
“I don’t even remember being here!”  
  
Lucius raised his hand to deliver a slap, but lowered it when he saw the way Harry turned his face and screwed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the blow.  
  
“I suppose it would be unwise to punish you when you do not even remember your place in my home,” he said, more to himself than to Harry.  
  
“Nevertheless,” he continued, “when you attempted to run away, I had to do something to ensure you would not try that little stunt again. I had the skin on soles of you feet magically removed. When you can prove to me that you have been satisfactorily reprimanded, I may repair your injury. Until then, I can assure you, it will be nearly impossible for you to walk without causing yourself enormous amounts of pain.”  
  
Harry could only gaze wide-eyed from Lucius’s face to his own bandaged feet. Although he had no prior knowledge of skin removal, he was sure, given the pain he felt, that beneath the bandages he would find a bloody mess on the soles of his feet.  
  
“According to the medi-wizard with whom I was speaking yesterday when you awoke, somehow during the entire episode of your near-escape, subsequent retrieval and punishment, you seem to have lost the last 2 years of your memory.” Lucius sighed, pushing the hair back from his face, causing a long blond strand to fall from the leather thong holding the mass back. “As much as I want to be angry with you right now, I find that I am unable, given you have no recollection of our time together. However, I think it is necessary that I fill you in on a few necessary details.  
  
“Two years ago, while you and Draco were in the Astronomy Tower, the Death Eaters successfully took control of Hogwarts after gaining entrance to the castle through the vanishing cabinet, which my son so graciously fixed for that very same purpose. Unfortunately my heir,” he said this last word with great distain, “found himself in love with The Boy Who Lived and was unable to complete the task the Dark Lord had given him. Nevertheless, Severus killed Dumbledore himself and we took control of Hogwarts. Two days later we took control of the Ministry and the Wizarding world has been ruled by the Dark Lord himself ever since.”  
  
“You’re lying,” Harry said, shaking his head. “You’re lying. This isn’t real. I don’t know how I got here, but it’s not real!”  
  
Lucius rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me smack you again. This is real, Potter. Haven’t you noticed? You woke up and it wasn’t from a dream. You are still in the manor. What do I have to do to convince you? Would you like to see Draco’s grave again?”  
  
“Again?” Harry asked, his eyes filling with fresh tears.  
  
“Yes, again. The first time I brought you here, you refused to do anything — even eat — until I showed you the proof that my son was in fact murdered for speaking against the Dark Lord. The filthy little traitor.”  
  
“Don’t say that. Draco loved me.”  
  
“I don’t want to go through this with you again. Everything will be fine once you get your memory back.”  
  
“I have my memory! Draco’s not dead and this isn’t real and any minute I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone!”  
  
“Oh, Potter, do quit your blubbering. I’ve had quite enough. Now I can either leave you here or if you are going to act civilly, I can take you down to breakfast.”  
  
Harry stayed silent for a moment, staring down at the bandages covering his feet. Then slowly, very slowly, he looked up at Lucius and nodded once. Before he could ask for one, a robe landed atop his shivering body. Hastily, he pulled the garment on, steadfastly ignoring the fact that it smelled like expensive aftershave.  
  
“Obviously you will be unable to walk.” To Harry’s surprise, Lucius’s tone was satisfied, rather than angry or even sympathetic. “Your collar has also been removed temporarily. The medi-wizard thought the magic on the collar would clash with your punishment and cause you even more discomfort. It will be replaced later today, so don’t get comfortable.”  
  
To Harry’s surprise, when he reached up to his neck, he could feel a thick line of tender stick winding around his neck — a sure sign that he had indeed been wearing a collar for some time. Then to Harry’s even greater surprise, Lucius picked him up, cradling the boy to his chest like a babe, and strode out of the room. Lucius walked through so many hallways, around so many corners, and down so many stairs, Harry was sure he would be unable to get back to his — the — room alone, even is if he was able to walk. When Lucius pushed open a huge set of double doors, Harry found himself in a dining hall nearly as large as the Great Hall at Hogwarts.  
  
“Wow,” he whispered before h could stop himself.  
  
Instead of appearing amused, Lucius sneered. “Of course,” he said, his voice dripping with contempt, “You can’t remember your Master, so how can I expect you to remember the informal dining room?”  
  
Torn between a desire to understand what was going on and a desire to please Lucius, Harry said softly, “I’m sorry.”  
  
“That was a rhetorical question.”  
  
Cowed, Harry bowed his head and buried his face against the fabric of Lucius’s robes feeling even more embarrassed at his extremely close proximity to the man.  
  
Lucius crossed the room to the head of the table. He lowered Harry to his knees next to the chair and sat down at the table himself.  
  
“Uhm,” Harry started, “I need help getting into my chair.”  
  
Lucius looked down at him, narrowing his eyes.  
  
“I do want you to know that I am not enjoying the fact that I have to take you back through your training from the beginning. That is your place, pet. Learn it.”  
  
Harry sighed, but once again struggled to obey. He found that when he stayed on his hands and knees too long, his knees began to hurt. However, he couldn’t sit back on his heels either, because of the sharp pain it caused. The only compromise he could find was to spread his legs farther and sit his rear end on the floor, with his legs bent on either side of him. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but it was the most comfortable, given his options.  
  
When Lucius looked down at him for the first time, the blond man let out a chuckle and carded a hand through Harry’s messy black locks.  
  
“I knew you still had obedience in you, Pet. It’s just like riding a broom, hey?” Lucius reached up to his plate and offered Harry a piece of bacon.  
  
Harry’s stomach gave a loud gurgle at the offer of food. He had no idea how long it had been since he’d eaten last, and the bacon in Lucius’s hand looked like the best thing he’d even been offered. He even licked the grease from Lucius’s fingers when the man kept his fingers in front of Harry’s mouth.  
  
They continued like that until every piece of bacon was finished from Lucius’s plate. Harry still wasn’t full, but he wouldn’t dare ask Lucius for more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius finds himself in a quandary when his beloved pet tries to escape and then wakes up with no recollection of the past two years in his life. With no other options, Lucius must retrain his pet in the hopes that he will get his memory back in time. Meanwhile, Harry is struggling with conflicting emotions. He does not remember being Lucius Malfoy's pet, but at the same time finds himself inexplicably drawn to the man for other reasons than being at his mercy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second installment. I hope you enjoy. This fic won't be as long as HDYWM, but I hope to finish it by posting a chapter every day. Cheers!</div>

After breakfast, Lucius carried Harry back upstairs, but not to the room he had woken up in. No, this room was much more lavish, with a large four poster dominating the majority of the room. It was covered with red silk sheets and a sable duvet. Harry may have been naive, but he wasn’t stupid. This was Lucius Malfoy’s bedroom.

Lucius gently laid him down on the bed, regarding Harry with a look of curiosity. “A bath, first, I think.”

Harry gulped, hoping Lucius could not detect the fear in his face. He was desperately unsure how he was supposed to bathe with his feet wrapped in bandages. Sit in the bath sideways and lean them over the edge, perhaps? Surely getting them wet would cause twice as much pain and discomfort. But Lucius answered the question for him.

“Sit up on the bed, with your legs over the side.”

Harry struggled to comply, carefully folding himself up into a seated position and scooting across the enormous bed until he was sitting as Lucius asked.

“As I said before, I can’t very well punish you for something you cannot remember. Perhaps losing your memory is a sufficient punishment.”

Although he wasn’t sure if Lucius was talking to himself, Harry knew enough to remain silent, as there had been no direct question posed to him. He said nothing.

Starting with the left foot, Lucius knelt down and began unwrapping the gauze hiding Harry’s punishment from view. The farther he got, the bloodier the cloth became, until the last layer, where Lucius very nearly had to pull the fabric away from Harry’s foot. He repeated the process with the other foot until both feet were completely unwrapped, looking as though they each had one enormous blister across the sole.

Above, Harry tried desperately to remain silent, although the sharp pain nearly brought him to tears.

“Well, pet, normally this would be the time I would ask you if you have learned your lesson. However, since you are unable to remember the crime, I hope this punishment will serve as a lesson to you, should you _think_ about running away. Is that understood?”

Harry looked into the man’s grey eyes and knew Lucius would not hesitate to repeat the process if necessary. “Yes, Sir.”

“Very well.” Lucius intoned an incantation under his breath and the wounds appeared to knit themselves together until the skin on the bottom of Harry’s feet was whole and flawless once again. “A bath then, pet. Come.”

Gingerly, almost expecting the pain to come back, Harry stood up. Thankfully, the only thing he could feel was the soft plush carpet beneath his bare feet. He followed Lucius into an equally opulent bath, where a tub full off fluffy white bubbles awaited.

Everything in the bath was made of white marble, except the floor, which was black. Looking down at the polished surface, Harry felt as though the floor might actually be a black ocean which would swallow him up the second he tried to cross. Or at least he hoped.

“Strip off and get into the bath.”

Remembering that Lucius had already seen him bereft of any clothing, a pink blush erupted across Harry’s face and chest, but he obeyed the man and removed the soft robe he had been given. Wanting to waste no more time than necessary in front of the other man, Harry stepped into the tub and sank down into the warm pool of bubbles. After the treacherous day he had, losing his memory, losing _Draco_ , finding out that he was Lucius Malfoy’s _pet_ , and suffering such a punishment only that man could dole out, the hot water felt like heaven against his aching body.

“Come here, pet.”

For the first time, Harry noticed that Lucius had not left Harry to bathe alone. Instead, he had knelt by the tub as though to — bathe Harry himself? Ignoring the feeling of anxiety his thoughts were giving him, Harry sidled up to the edge of the tub. And he promptly found himself thrust underwater. He thrashed his arms in protest, fighting back to the surface, back to air, coughing and sputtering.

“There, not so bad, hey?” was Lucius’s only comment, as though he was soothing a skittish animal. The blond man then began to work a floral-scented lather into Harry’s dark locks. The feeling of the man’s long fingers almost made Harry groan in pleasure. He nearly did when those skilled fingers were removed. This time, however, he was paying attention when Lucius eased his head back underwater to rinse away the soap.

“Stand up,” Lucius said, when Harry resurfaced a second time. Harry obeyed the order, but stood shaking, as the warm bathwater barely covered him to the knees.

Starting with Harry’s neck and chest, Lucius soaped every inch of his Quidditch-toned form with a soft flannel, paying special attention to Harry’s cock and balls, although the organ showed no interest in the proceedings. Lucius did not seem to mind, however. He continued down Harry’s body, asking the boy to hold up each foot alternately, which Lucius washed with great care, softly rubbing the flannel over each of the soles, which were mutilated until so recently.

By the time Lucius finished, Harry’s shivering form sank gratefully back into the water after a simple command from the Master. Lucius stood and left the room. Harry’s heart soared in the hope that he would be permitted a soak alone in the tub. However his hopes were dashed minutes later when Lucius returned with a white bath towel that was so big it looked like it could cover his entire bed.

“Step out now, lovely,” Lucius said softly. Harry stood up and carefully stepped out of the tub, afraid he might slip on the deadly smooth surface of the black marble floor. Almost immediately, he found himself wrapped in the towel that was nearly as soft as the sable bedspread and just as warm as if it had just been the subject of a warming charm. He sighed, leaning into the towel, and ironically, Lucius’s arms, which kept the towel around him.

After towelling Harry dry as thoroughly as possible, Lucius picked him up in one fluid motion and carried him back into the bedroom where he again laid him down on the bed. Harry sat up, trying to anticipate Lucius’s next orders. He was pleasantly surprised when Lucius drew the bedclothes down on one side and ushered him under the warm blankets.

“Sleep, little one,” Lucius said, placing a gentle kiss on Harry’s forehead. “We’ll discuss everything when you wake up.”

Harry nodded into the pillow under his head. Everything. That would cover his questions about...

But he drifted off to sleep before he could even finish his thought.

Harry awoke sometime later to find that he was once again alone. He didn’t bother calling out Lucius’s name this time, as he didn’t want to find out what the other man had in store for him. Instead, he slid out of the bed, shivering slightly at the loss of warmth, and padded to the bathroom to relieve himself. When he returned to the bedroom, he noticed that a few articles of clothing had been placed on the nightstand alone with a note.

_Pet-_

_When you have awoken from your nap, you may put these clothes on and wait for me. Do not try to leave the bedroom, as the door is warded and will give you a nasty surprise should you attempt to leave. I have left a book with which you may amuse yourself until I return._

The note was not signed.

Harry looked down at the book next to the clothing and snorted. _A Wizard’s Guide to Magical Travel_. Was this supposed to be some sort of joke? Lucius knew Harry couldn’t leave, so what was the purpose of that particular book? To taunt him?

He picked up the soft drawstring trousers and matching silk top. Why was everything in the Manor so expensive and _comfortable_? After all, a gilded cage is still a cage. Pushing back his discomfort, Harry pulled the clothes on. If nothing else, they would keep away the chill that the large manor managed to exude.

Making himself comfortable on the bed once more, he picked up the book, staring at it dubiously.

“A Wizard’s Guide to Magical Travel, by Gideon Geurtheau,” he read out loud. “This book outlines the basics of wizarding travel for the beginning voyager. From brooms to portkeys to apparition to floo, this book will give you the ins and the outs of getting from here to there.” Harry rolled his eyes, opening the book. “This better not be some sick sort of punishment.”

He was halfway through the chapter on portkeys when the door opened. Almost immediately, Harry’s heartbeat quickened and his nerves kicked into gear.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’ve awoken from your nap,” Lucius said, crossing the room. He glanced down at the book Harry had hastily closed at his entrance. “I see you’ve found the book I left. Have you been enjoying it?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Is this some kind of joke? You know damn well I can’t go anywhere.”

“I should ask you the same thing,” Lucius countered derisively, “That was the book you were reading in the gardens just hours before you tried to escape.”

“Why do you keep accusing me of doing something I can’t remember?” Harry asked, frustrated. He threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know! I don’t remember being here let alone trying to escape. I’ve never read this book and I certainly don’t remember reading it _here_!”

Lucius stepped up to him, taking Harry’s chin in his hand. “You _will_ watch your tone with me. Amnesia or not, you still belong to me and I will not be disrespected in my own home. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” Harry answered, bowing his head. He wished the man would just leave him in peace once again.

Lucius continued on as though he had not just corrected Harry’s manner of speech. “I would suffice to say, then, that any further inquiry about just why you were reading this book would be fruitless. Nevertheless, I have brought you something I’m sure you will be delighted to reunite with.”

Harry’s ears perked up. Surely, Lucius didn’t bring him a gift of something from Harry’s own possession. His firebolt, maybe? Is that why the dark wizard give him book about magical travel?

But Harry’s heart sank when Lucius pulled a strip of leather from his pocket. “Your collar, dear pet. I’m sure you have felt lost without it.”

Harry was so stunned, he could only sit in silence as Lucius buckled the thing around his neck, the cold leather settling against his skin in an eerily familiar way as the magic from the restraint tumbled down his body, as though settling itself in his very pores.

“There,” Lucius said, standing back to admire his handiwork. “Much better.”

Lifting a hand, Harry nervously fingered his new adornment. For the most part the leather was smooth, with a small silver ring at the hollow of Harry’s throat — not unlike a dog collar. He was a collared pet. He certainly wasn’t going anywhere.

“Master, I-” Harry started and caught himself. It was the first time he had willingly addressed Lucius as his Master.

“Yes, pet?” Lucius replied, nonplussed.

Harry continued, knowing that at the least he had Lucius’s attention in a good way for once. “You said,” he paused, licking his chapped lips. “You said we could discuss everything when I woke up.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” Lucius answered, sounding amused. “What would you like to know?”

Harry nearly gaped at the other man. The last thing he expected was for Lucius to let _him_ ask questions. However, he must have stayed in shock too long, because Lucius started talking again.

“Or if you don’t have any questions...”

“No, I do!” Harry blurted out. Catching himself, his cheeks coloured. “I mean I do have questions.”

Lucius gestured with his hand for Harry to continue.

“What year is it?”

Harry’s first question caught Lucius off guard. The blond man’s eye brows knitted in confusion. Clearly, this was not the first question he was expecting Harry to ask. “It’s 1997. The fifteenth of August, to be exact.”

“I just turned seventeen, then,” Harry whispered, more to himself that Lucius.

Lucius scrubbed a hand over his face. “You did.” He appeared troubled by the fact, but did not elaborate on his thoughts.

Harry chewed his lip nervously. “Tell me about the last two years,” he said, his statement sounding more like a question than anything.

Lucius sat down on the bed, keeping his distance from Harry, but his eyes trained on him. “That night — the night Snape killed Dumbledore — the Lestranges took Draco to the dungeon to be disposed of and Bella brought you here. You had been _stupefied_ and looked so much more fragile than anything I had ever expected. I put you to bed and sent Bella away.

“Naturally, the next morning you were angry as a hornet. You were so upset, your spontaneous magic wouldn’t let any of the house elves get close enough to touch you. Finally, I _stupefied_ you and that’s when I gave you your collar. It inhibits your magic. After that, it was just a matter of breaking you.

“Oh, you fought me at first, surely. But I’m sure after being subject to the _cruciatus_ curse several times, you were much more willing-“ Lucius stopped mid-sentence, his expression darkening. He stood up and began pacing around the room. “This is absurd!” he shouted, “Here I am pouring my heart out to a _slave_ who should be servicing _me_! What have I been reduced to? What have _you_ reduced me to?”

He rounded on Harry, causing the small boy to shrink in on himself. “Enough of this charade, Potter. You are my pet and you will bloody well do as I say. You are here for my service and nothing else. Don’t you forget that.”

His untethered blond hair flew out behind him as he stalked back to the door. Turning around, he addressed Harry once more. “I will require your services this evening after dinner. Drizzle will bring your meal promptly at five o’clock. I suggest you prepare yourself for me after that.” With a curl of his lip, Lucius slammed the door shut, leaving Harry to wonder once again what the hell just happened.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius finds himself in a quandary when his beloved pet tries to escape and then wakes up with no recollection of the past two years in his life. With no other options, Lucius must retrain his pet in the hopes that he will get his memory back in time. Meanwhile, Harry is struggling with conflicting emotions. He does not remember being Lucius Malfoy's pet, but at the same time finds himself inexplicably drawn to the man for other reasons than being at his mercy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to post this so late, and yet as I am posting it tonight, I haven't had time to really proofread it yet. Any mistakes are my own. However, the reviews feed the muse.

As soon as Lucius left the room, Harry stood up and began to pace like a caged animal. He had no idea what Lucius wanted with him and shuddered to imagine what his “services” could mean. Growling in frustration, he kicked at the door handle and gasp in shock when the door clicked open. Hesitantly, he pressed down on the handle with his first finger. When nothing happened to him, he grabbed the handle with his whole hand and slowly eased the door open.

He poked his head out of the room, looking first to the left and then to the right to assure nobody was watching him. When he ascertained the coast was clear, Harry tiptoed out of Lucius’s bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. In his haste, Lucius had apparently forgotten to lock the door. Harry, however, was not about to let such an opportunity slip through his fingers.

Harry flattened himself against the wall, walking as quietly as possible, hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t be caught. But as he got about halfway down the hallway, he heard Lucius’s voice and froze.

The voice was coming from the door that stood ajar just a few yards in front of him. Harry tiptoed closer to the door. Lucius was talking to someone. About him.

“I just don’t understand. Last week he was just as complacent and compliant as he ever was. He enjoyed being my pet. Not to mention the only thing for him outside these walls is death at the hands of our Lord.”

“Lucius, you just need to keep treating him as though his memory has not been affected.”

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. Snape.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Lucius growled. “The boy is acting the same way as when he was first brought here. What do you expect me to do, begin his training all over again?”

There was momentary silence in the room.

“That is what you’re getting at! You expect me to retrain my pet of two years because he’s somehow lost his memory from a punishment he deserved.”

“I’m not saying he didn’t deserve the punishment, Lucius. What I am saying is that the brat does not remember being in your service. Therefore, he does not remember how to service you. How do you suppose to bring his memory back? By mollycoddling him into a false sense of security? So that when he does finally regain his memory, he expects you to treat him as a lover — as an equal? I don’t think so.”

More silence.

Then, “You’re right, Severus, you always are. However, it’s just so frustrating to know that all the time and effort I’ve put into training him to be the perfect pet has all gone down the train. I have to start over again from scratch!”

“Well, would you rather have the Dark Lord find out that you were unable to properly discipline your slave and he forgot every part of his training? Or that your so-called “well trained” pet tried to escape? Or that —“

“Enough. I see your point. I shall begin his training again as though he has just arrived here. But I will not begin until after dinner. I told him I would collect him after dinner and I cannot start by making false threats, now can I?”

The sound of laughter reached Harry’s ears and he felt his knees go weak. As quickly and quietly as he could, he stole back to Lucius’s bedroom, away from the laughter and away from the conversation.

He latched the door and hoped against all hope Lucius wouldn’t notice the door had been left unlocked. After that, he alternated between pacing the room, trying to sleep, and reading the book on magical travel. He still didn’t know why Lucius left this particular book.

Drizzle arrived with his dinner precisely at 5 o’clock. Harry had no way of telling the time, but he was sure Lucius’s house elves kept to the very strict schedule of the manor. The dinner was prepared well enough — Caneton a`l'Orange (roast duck with orange sauce) — but although his stomach growled menacingly, Harry found himself unable to eat more than a few bites. He was too worried about becoming the sitting duck in Lucius’s mind within the hour.

Harry was still seated at the small table, picking half-heartedly at the duck in front of him, when Lucius returned. Harry felt his stomach clench and all the colour went out of his face at the sight of the man. The feral grin on Lucius’s face made him want to regurgitate the small amount of his dinner he had actually been able to choke down.

Without saying a word, Lucius crossed the room, while pulling a length of leather out from his pocket — a lead. He clipped the leash to the ring on Harry’s collar and tugged.

“Come, pet.”

Hesitantly, Harry stood up. The second he took his first step, however, he felt a sharp jolt in his foot from Lucius’s wand.

“You will kneel or crawl in my presence. You do not have permission to walk.”

Swallowing the bile that rose in his throat, Harry lowered himself to his hands and knees, debasing himself in front of his captor. Lucius tugged on his collar again.

“Come, pet,” he repeated.

Harry allowed himself to be led out the door of Lucius’s bedroom and down the hallway. Although his heart hammered a nervous tattoo against his ribs, he silently thanked Lucius for the fact that the hallway was carpeted. The blond man led him past the doorway Harry reached earlier. Peeking in as they passed, Harry realized it was Lucius’s study.

Harry followed Lucius for what seemed like an eternity down the long carpeted hallways of Malfoy Manor. His knees had started to chafe from the carpet under them and his wrists were beginning to ache from being on his hands and knees for so long. Finally, they stopped in front of a set of iron doors.

Lucius eased one of the doors open, causing it to make a horrible creaking noise, like it hadn’t been oiled in a very long time. Harry cringed slightly and recoiled. He paused ever so slightly when Lucius tugged on his collar, indicating he should crawl into the room, but saw Lucius’s wand hand twitch and he thought better of it.

Harry crawled into the dark room. The floor was cold and hard beneath his knees and hands. He shivered slightly against the chill. Suddenly the room was flooded with light, causing Harry to jump slightly in surprise.

“Easy, pet,” Lucius said, walking into the room. He pulled the iron door shut and the doors seemed to melt into the stone wall as though they had never been there.

Harry remained still, but took his surroundings in with wide eyes. The entire room was about the size of his bedroom at the Dursley’s — it wasn’t very big and it didn’t have anything in it except cold grey stone walls and floor. With a whispered word from Lucius, Harry’s clothing disappeared, leaving him naked save for his collar.

The blond man unclipped Harry’s leash, rolled it up, and slid it back inside his pocket.

“This is the training room, pet. I will bring you here when I feel we need to have a formal training session. You will remain nude in this position unless I tell you otherwise. For every indiscretion in this room, you will earn yourself one stripe. If we reach fifty stripes, I will end the session and give you your punishment. Am I clear?”

“Yes,” Harry whispered so quietly, Lucius almost couldn’t hear him.

Lucius made a noise of discontent low in his throat. “That’s one stripe, Potter. Yes, Sir.”

“Yes, Sir,” Harry repeated, gulping audibly.

Lucius walked around behind him. Harry could hear the footfalls of his boots echoing ominously off the stone wall. He stayed still, wondering frantically what Lucius might be planning. And what did he mean by stripe?

Harry stayed in his position so long, and his limbs were aching so badly, he started to wonder if Lucius had somehow disappeared from the room — he hadn’t moved either. Almost imperceptibly, Harry alternately lifted each of his knees, trying to give the aching joints a reprieve.

“Two,” the stern voice echoed.

Harry mentally kicked himself. As if Lucius would leave him alone.

The minutes ticked by one after another. Harry was freezing, but he clenched his teeth tight to prevent himself from shivering. It would only earn him another stripe.

Finally — finally! — Lucius walked back into Harry’s range of vision.

“Rule number one, pet.”

Harry looked up, unsure what the man was asking. Lucius grabbed a handful of inky black locks and shoved his head back down so he was looking at the floor.

“I did not give you permission to look me in the eye. Three.” Lucius tapped the heel of his boot impatiently. “Rule number one, unless you would like to make it four.”

Harry racked his brain. What could Lucius possibly be asking? Unless he meant-

“In this room, I am to remain nude and in this position unless you tell me otherwise,” he said quickly. Then wincing, he belatedly added, “Sir.”

Clucking his tongue in disapproval, Lucius replied, “That will be one for hesitation and one for not addressing me as Sir. Six. Now, pet, rule number two, unless you would like to make it seven.”

“I am not to look you in the eye, Sir,” Harry answered without hesitation.

This time there was a moment of silence, in which Harry thought his heart might burst out of his chest in anticipation, before Lucius answered.

“One for forgetting rule number 2 and one for forgetting the order of rule number 3. Eight. Rule number two, pet.”

Harry’s breathing quickened to match his racing heartbeat. There was no way he was going to win this sick game.

“I... I don’t know, Sir,” he confessed.

“You don’t know?” Lucius countered, acid dripping from his words. “Very well.”

The boots clicked out of Harry’s vision before returning, a long black cane — Lucius’s famous walking stick, along with them.

“I think fifteen should do it. Eight for each of the rules you broke tonight,” he paused, surveying Harry’s shivering form. “And seven to remind you rule number 2.”

The cane came down on Harry’s backside, causing the boy to cry out and lurch forward with the force of the blow.

“You will count each of the stripes, thanking me for each one in between. Then you will recite rule number 2, which is ‘I will address my Master as Sir at all times’. If you forget to count, do not thank me, or forget to recite rule number 2, we will start from the beginning, pet. As such, you did not count the first one, therefore we will start over.”

The cane came down on Harry’s backside again, but this time he was only slightly more ready for the blow, and bit his lip to prevent crying out.

“One, Sir. Thank you, Sir. I will address my Master as Sir at all times, Sir.”

“Very good, pet,” Lucius purred. “I always knew you were a quick study.”

Lucius brought the cane down again, but this time on Harry’s unsuspecting thighs. Harry cried out, nearly losing his balance. The pain was almost more than he could handle.

“T-two, Sir. Thank you, S-Sir. I will address my M-Master as Sir at all t-times, Sir.”

Lucius brought the cane down on his thighs again.

And again.

“Four, Sir. Thank you, Sir. I will address my,” he gave a sniffling sort of sob here, “Master as Sir at all times, Sir.”

Blows five, six, and seven landed on Harry’s unblemished back. By the tenth blow, he was openly sobbing, but he managed to choke out the necessary statement.

“You’re doing very well, pet,” Lucius said softly. “You only have five more to go.”

He stuck Harry again, this time on his backside, where the tissue was more fatty, able to handle more blows.

“Eleven!” Harry cried out, the tears pooling around the rim of his collar. “Thank you, Sir. I will address my Master as Sir at all times, Sir.”

The last four blows came down in quick succession across Harry’s backside. The brunette nearly fell to the ground with the might and the pain, but he managed to hold himself upright.

“Twelve, Sir.” He sniffed, and coughed, choking back the phlegm that pooled in his throat. “Thank you, Sir. I will address my Master as Sir at all times, Sir. Thirteen Sir-“

“That is sufficient, Harry,” Lucius said, smoothing a calm hand down the unblemished skin of Harry’s side. “You did very well, pet.”

Harry nodded, his tears still falling in thick rivulets down his reddened cheeks. “Thank you, Sir.”

Pulling the collar from his pocket once again, Lucius clipped it to Harry’s collar and led him out of the room. Despite the welts on his back, thighs, and buttocks, Harry felt a sigh of relief when he heard the iron doors to the punishment room slam shut. It was not a place he wanted to visit again, but somehow he knew he would be back there. And next time, Lucius wouldn’t stop at fifteen stripes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius finds himself in a quandary when his beloved pet tries to escape and then wakes up with no recollection of the past two years in his life. With no other options, Lucius must retrain his pet in the hopes that he will get his memory back in time. Meanwhile, Harry is struggling with conflicting emotions. He does not remember being Lucius Malfoy's pet, but at the same time finds himself inexplicably drawn to the man for other reasons than being at his mercy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait.. real life and all that. Hopefully I'll get two more chapters written this weekend. I don't know how long this is going to be, but it will definitely be more than 6 chapters.

By the time Harry and Lucius got back to the bedroom, Harry had stopped crying. His face was red and splotchy, however, and the welts on his back ached with every step.

Lucius shut the door to the bedroom and locked it with his wand. He leaned down and unclipped the lead from Harry’s collar.

“You will sleep there,” Luicus pointed to a pallet beside the bed, which Harry noticed for the first time.

Harry nodded obediently. He certainly didn’t want to go back to the training room for any reason, or any length of time. “Yes, Sir,” he answered, his voice sounding as broken as his battered body.

Lucius shed his robes, giving Harry his first eyeful of the pale blond wizard. A broad chest and strong, muscular thighs made Lucius look much younger than his years. Harry tried not to stare at the flaccid cock between the man’s legs, which was impressive enough in an unaroused state. Harry unconsciously whet his lips, as his mouth had suddenly gone dry.

Without paying Harry so much as a glance, Lucius climbed into his massive bed and extinguished the light. Feeling a great weight settle over him, Harry crawled across the room, settling himself on his pallet, which actually turned out to be a soft bed of fur.

Harry felt he had no sooner laid down, then the toe of a dragon-hide boot was poking him not-so-softly in the ribs. He cracked a bleary eye open at his captor.

“Up, pet.”

With much effort, Harry hauled himself to his hands and knees. The welts on his back pulsed viciously if he moved too fast. He crawled off the bed of furs, which had been surprisingly comfortable, despite the fact that Harry had only been able to sleep on his stomach.

Lucius clipped the lead to his collar again. Harry resisted the urge to growl at the man. If he was going to be treated like a dog, he might as well start acting like one.

Harry was led into the bathroom to relieve himself and bathe — all under the scrutiny of Lucius’s cold grey eyes with the lead still attached to the collar around his neck. Thankfully, Lucius did not interrupt while Harry bathed. Instead, he took it upon himself to investigate Harry’s body to ensure that every inch was clean and dry.

Once Lucius was sure his pet was satisfactorily clean, he led Harry back into he bedroom, where a veritable feast of breakfast awaited them. The sight and smell overwhelmed Harry, who had barely eaten anything in the last few days.

Lucius settled in the chair Harry had used the previous morning. When Harry did not immediately sit back on his heels, Lucius shot him a warning glare. Harry complied. He held his breath, half expecting Lucius to tell him he’d just earned a stripe.

“Good, pet.”

Harry exhaled. His stomach growled in protest that he had not yet been offered the food that was nearly making him dizzy from want. His eyes followed Lucius’s for from the full plate up to the man’s pink lips and back. It was maddening.

Only when his plate was empty did Lucius allow Harry any breakfast. Leaning down, he offered Harry a bite of pancake, held between a delicate thumb an forefinger. Almost reverently, Harry took the fingers into his mouth, laving them with his tongue to make sure he got all the syrup. Lucius filled his plate again, offering the boy next to him small bites — all from his fingers. He kept his fingers in Harry’s mouth long enough for the brunette to clean them off before he reaching for another bite.

When the plate was halfway clean, a noise of disgust from the doorway diverted Lucius’s attention from Harry’s full soft lips.

“Really, Lucius, I don’t think animals should be fed at the table.”

Harry tried to duck his head behind the chair, at the sight of the Lady of the manor, but Lucius would have none of that. Instead, he pulled on Harry’s lead, forcing the boy into an undignified sprawl across his lap. Blushing scarlet, Harry moved his hands to cover his bits, but Lucius slapped them away.

“Narcissa, dear, you know I always feed pet scraps from the table. How is this morning any different?”

Narcissa seated herself across the table from him, daintily covering her lap with a napkin, before she reached for the bangers.

“Still, Lucius, it’s unsanitary. Has he been bathed lately?” she asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Besides, Severus informed me that he lost his memory. I thought that alone would be enough for you to trade him in for a new one.”

Lucius placed a strawberry at Harry’s lips, slipping his fingers into his mouth along with the sweet fruit. “I bathed him this morning,” he dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “Without addressing that fact that you and Severus have been discussing my pet without me, what made you think that I would get rid of him just because he has a temporary,” Lucius paused, carding a hand through Harry’s dark locks. “issue?”

“Well, if he cannot remember his training, then he is quite obviously to be assumed feral once more. I don’t like the thought of a feral pet running around the Manor. You could just as easily have a brand new one, Lucius, fully broken.”

Lucius’s hold on Harry tightened. “He is fully broken,” he ground out, clearly upset by his wife’s words.

“Then why, pray tell, were you in the punishment room last night?”

“What I do in there is none of your business.” Regaining his composure, Lucius calmly sipped his pumpkin juice. “How did you know I was in there? Did Severus tell you last night to break your wedding vows?”

“Don’t be daft. You’ve no reason to doubt my infidelity. Now, yours, however,” Narcissa glared pointedly at Harry.

“Narcissa, what is this about? You haven’t had a problem with Harry before. In fact, you told me to ‘stay the hell out of my bed and go fuck your little whore’ after I got him. Why the change of heart now?”

Narcissa put her knife and fork down. She picked the napkin up from her lap and dabbed at the corners of her mouth. “Forgive me, Lucius, but I thought we might go back to a normal semblance of life if he was gone. Now-“ her breath hitched “Now that Draco is gone, I thought you might give your pet up and be my husband again.”

Lucius’s deep laugh reverberated across the room, making Harry cringe in fear. If nothing else, he was thankful that Lucius’s attention was focused entirely on his wife. He didn’t want the man to get angry and turn that anger on him.

“In case you’ve forgotten, I am still your husband.”

“My lover, then.”

“No.” Lucius’s answer was swift and automatic. “I don’t know how many times I need to explain to you that my preferences do not lean towards the fairer sex? I performed my duty as a husband the entire time Draco was alive. Now that he’s gone, there is no need for me to continue the farce.”

Across the table, Narcissa pursed her lips into a thin line. “Very well,” she said, her voice deadly calm. “I expect complete agreement when I take a lover, move him in the Manor, and flaunt him at the dining table.”

“By all means,” Lucius challenged, right back.

The blond woman glared at him for just a moment more, before throwing her napkin down and storming out of the room.

“Good day,” Lucius said to her empty seat.

He looked down at the boy in his arms, who looked back with wide eyes. “I think I’m done with breakfast. Are you full, pet?”

“Yes, Sir,” Harry answered, thankful that he was telling the truth this time.

“I should probably ward that door so she cannot get in next time,” Lucius said, more to himself than to Harry. He gently eased the boy off his lap, who obediently knelt next to him. “At least I know you’re not going anywhere.”

Later that day, Lucius took Harry down to the library to meet a “guest”. His collar and leash were ever-present accessories.

Harry waited nervously next to Lucius’s chair for their guest to be shown in. His worst fear was that Voldemort himself would walk through the door to kill him, or something similar. But his scar made no mention of the Dark Lord. His second thought would be that Lucius had tired of him and was going to sell him to one of his Death Eater friends, which is why he was given clothing. Both ideas sent him into a near panic, causing him to tremble visibly.

Lucius placed a calming hand on his back.

“Easy, pet. There is nothing to fear.”

At that moment a startlingly familiar hook-nosed man with long greasy hair walked into the room behind a house elf Harry had not seen before.

“I is presenting Sir Snape, Master Lucius.”

“Thank you Bimble,” Lucius said, waving the creature away. “Severus,” he regarded the man. “Please, sit.”

Snape took the proffered chair next to Lucius. His eyes raked down Harry’s nude body, making the boy feel even more exposed than he already was. Almost imperceptibly, he shuffled himself ever-so-closer to his Master’s knees, as though he needed protection from the other man. Lucius either did not notice or did not care.

“Brandy?”

“No, thank you,” Snape answered. “But I would like something stronger. Firewhiskey, perhaps?”

The corner of Lucius’s mouth twitched in the barest hint of a smile. “You always did like the harder side, didn’t you?”

Snape didn’t smile. He took the drink Lucius offered him, sniffed it suspiciously, then took a careful sip.

“I’m not trying to poison you, Severus.”

“With you Lucius, I never know.”

Lucius stared at the other man silently for a moment before answering. “One could say the same of you.” He shifted, crossing one leg over the other, causing Harry to lose his balance slightly. He spared the boy a glance as he righted himself before continuing. “Tell me, dear friend,” he put emphasis on the word like it was a bitter taste to have in his purebred mouth, “What were you doing consorting with my wife behind my back?”

Snape nearly spit out his firewhiskey. “Consorting?” he asked, although the question came out a bit more surprised than he probably would have liked. “I have not been consorting with Narcissa. We’ve just merely been discussing common interests.”

“Such as my pet?” Lucius ran a hand through Harry’s dark locks, a clear display of ownership, as though it was not already apparent.

Snape’s jaw clenched. “She asked me a few questions, so I answered them.”

“Really,” Lucius replied dryly. He took a long sip of brandy. “Tell me, do you also discuss the sexual nature of mine and Narcissa’s marriage as well?”

Clearly taken aback, Severus struggled to compose his features before answering. “No, it hasn’t come up, but that’s not-“

“It is everything,” Lucius corrected. He stood up, pushing Harry aside with his foot. “I would appreciate it, in the future, if you would refrain from speaking with my wife about my sexual habits and preferences. If you had any questions, dear friend, all you had to do was ask.”

“Lucius I-“

“Get out.” Lucius’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Snape nodded once. “Good day.” He left the room without another word.

Lucius clapped his hands together and looked down at Harry. “Well, pet, now that’s over, let’s you and I have some fun, hey?”

Harry felt his throat tighten, only this time it had nothing to do with the collar around his neck.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius finds himself in a quandary when his beloved pet tries to escape and then wakes up with no recollection of the past two years in his life. With no other options, Lucius must retrain his pet in the hopes that he will get his memory back in time. Meanwhile, Harry is struggling with conflicting emotions. He does not remember being Lucius Malfoy's pet, but at the same time finds himself inexplicably drawn to the man for other reasons than being at his mercy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is going to start getting rather explicit in terms of the sex scenes and the S&m. If you object to these themes, please DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER.

Spreading his legs to make himself more comfortable, Lucius unbuttoned his trousers and pulled out his half-hard cock. He held it in his hand, stroking the organ to full hardness.

“Come now, pet,” he cooed, staring into Harry’s frightened green eyes while continuing to stroke himself. “I know that you’ve been missing this. It was wrong of me to keep it from you for so long. Don’t be shy, go ahead and have your treat.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut when a hand on the back of his head urged him closer to the swollen member. Harry bumped into the head, spreading a slight wetness across his lips. Instinctively his tongue darted out. The taste was salty and decidedly male, but also had a frighteningly familiar flavour. Before he could decide whether he liked the taste or not, the hand on the back of his head tightened viciously in his hair, causing him to gasp in pain. Lucius took advantage of the situation and thrust himself inside Harry’s warm mouth. The boy gagged almost immediately, but the man above did not relent.

“Relax your throat,” he commanded.

Though his eyes were beginning to fill with tears from his gag reflex, Harry did his best to obey Lucius’s words. Surprisingly, he found it very easy to relax his throat and allow Lucius to push himself in fully. The cock was wider and longer than any of the ones Harry had seen in his dormitory or in the Quidditch changing rooms. His lips stretched around it, but he managed to get the entire length inside.

“Good, pet,” Lucius purred, releasing his death-grip on Harry’s mane slightly. “Just like that.”

Lucius pulled himself out and thrust back in, setting up a steady rhythm. Harry did his best to accommodate the man. He did his best to relax his throat and tried not to choke.

“Use your tongue more.”

Harry rolled his eyes up to look at his Master, a feat easier said then done while kneeling on the floor in front of him. He obeyed, circling his tongue around the prick in his mouth, taking take to pay special attention to the head, ignoring the recoil in his throat at the taste of the pre-come. From his vantage point, he could see that Lucius had thrown his head back, his hips thrusting a gentle rhythm into the back of Harry’s throat.

“Keep sucking, pet, I’m starting to get close.”

Harry’s jaw ached, but he redoubled his efforts. The faster Lucius finished, he knew, the faster he would be released.

“Oh, yes,” Lucius groaned. He shoved himself all the way in, holding the back of Harry’s head tightly to keep him in place. Harry struggled desperately for air, as his mouth filled with Lucius’s warm, salty release.

“Swallow, pet,” Lucius growled, keeping Harry’s head in place. Working his throat frantically, Harry fought to swallow the vile substance.

Just when Harry started to see stars behind his eyelids, Lucius released him. The sudden departure caused Harry to fall back on the wooden floor, a trickle of semen seeping out of the corner of his mouth. He caught it with his tongue before Lucius noticed.

Lucius was so please with Harry’s performance he left the boy in the library to his own devices while he left to attend business in other areas of the Manor. Having never been allowed any farther than Lucius’s rooms (or the library at the end of a leash) he didn’t know where to go or how to get there. After wandering around the Manor for some time, he found himself outside in the gardens. His feet seemed to have led him there of their own accord.

Harry settled himself at a wrought iron table set under the cover of a large weeping willow tree. Fitting, Harry thought to himself, resting his forehead against the cool glass tabletop. He had always imagined what the gardens at Malfoy Manor would be like, after the vivid descriptions Draco — Harry’s heart clenched. He had been so wrapped up in his own ordeal he had forgotten all about Draco.

Draco.

Harry’s last memories before waking up in Lucius’s clutches flooded him. Memento vivere, he thought. It was the last thing Draco said to him before . . .

Harry swallowed back the tears welling in his eyes. He would not cry.

After he and Dumbledore arrived on top of the Astronomy Tower with the fake — fake! — Horcrux, Draco stepped out from the shadows. Harry’s grip on Dumbledore faltered and he nearly allowed the old man to fall to the ground.

“Draco,” he hissed, “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Draco answered, eyes darting nervously around the tower.

“I- we were-“ he faltered. He couldn’t tell Draco what he and Dumbledore had been after. He promised. “Why are you here?”

Draco swallowed, his pale neck glistening in the moonlight. “I can’t tell you either. I-“

Before he could finish the sentence, a group of Death Eaters burst onto the roof where they stood. He and Draco tried for their wands — tried to run — tried for freedom — but they were both grabbed by separate Death Eaters and dragged from the Tower in separate directions.

“Draco!” Harry screamed, desperately struggling to get of the grip of the Death Eater that held him. Where was his damn wand?

“Harry!” Draco called back, “Whatever happens, memento vivere!”

And then he was gone. The Death Eater holding Harry disapparated and everything went black.

“Memento vivere,” Harry whispered, coming back to himself. He knew it was Latin, but he had no idea what it meant. In his mind he wished it was a culmination of all the things he would have wanted Draco to say before he died: I love you, Be safe, I’ll miss you. But in his heart of hearts, he knew Draco would never reveal himself in front of the other Death Eaters like that. “He probably just told me to fuck off in Latin,” Harry said to nobody, sighing.

He glanced around the gardens, at the beautiful flowers surrounding him. It was still September, so some flowers would be in bloom, but the Manor gardens were charmed to remain in full bloom all year. Harry sat silently, thinking for long moments. A thought struck him, and he sat bolt upright.

“That was the book you were reading in the gardens just hours before you tried to escape,” Lucius words came back to him sharp and stinging.

He was in the gardens. Somehow he just knew how to get here. He glanced around nervously, as though Lucius was suddenly going to appear and accuse him of trying to escape once more. He wracked his brain, but no other thoughts or memories of the garden came back to him. Maybe he was reading that book out here because it had some Latin — the book! Harry nearly toppled the chair in which he sat in his haste.

He scrambled back into the house and up the nearest set of stairs. He got lost a few times and had to turn around, but eventually he made it back to Lucius’s room. He knocked first, just in case the man happened to be occupying his own quarters. When he received no reply either way, he gently eased the door open.

“Master?” he called timidly, peeking his head into the room. Seeing no sign of Lucius, he tiptoed across the room, snatched the book off the nightstand, and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Harry trotted down the hallway with A Wizard’s Guide to Magical Travel tucked under his arm, looking for secluded nook in which to read. Surprisingly, he stumbled upon a window seat at the end of a long, seemingly unused hallway with a generous view of the Malfoy estate. Harry settled himself upon the generous ledge. The window was so wide he could stretch his legs completely out, while keeping his back against the wall.

He opened the book in his lap and turned to the index, scanning “m”. No memento. Almost frantically, he turned to “v”. No vivere. He shut the book in frustration. He still had no idea why Lucius had given him the book.

Lucius’s words resonated in his head. “That was the book you were reading in the gardens just hours before you tried to escape.” The book you were reading before you tried to escape. Escape.

With a renewed vigor, Harry threw the book open to the index again. He searched through “e” this time. Nothing on escape. Growling in frustration, he slammed the book shut and hurled it as far down the hallway as he could.

A loud crack seconds later nearly startled him out of his skin.

“Bloody hell!” he cried, clutching his chest.

It was only Drizzle, the house elf.

“Master is requiring his pet join him for dinner.”

Harry nodded once, standing up. He collected the book, shoving it roughly under his arm. “Er, Drizzle?” he asked, creasing his brows. “Could you should me how to get to the dining room?”

The elf gave a low bow. “If Master’s pet will follow, Drizzle will gladly escort him.”

Dutifully, Harry followed the elf down to the hallway. He tried to catalogue the turns their took and the stairways they descended, but there seemed to be so many rooms and so much space in the Manor that he would never remember. Why someone would want to live in a museum-like house, Harry would never know.

Dinner was uneventful — or as uneventful as Harry’s life had been since waking up. He sat dutifully next to Lucius while the older man ate his dinner, obligingly taking the scraps from his fingers and licking them clean. Harry’s manner was positively obedient, compared to his earlier behaviour. His mind was so distracted by the book he managed to stow just before entering the dining room and by his sudden memory of Draco’s last words that he couldn’t bring himself to focus enough on the present.

Lucius left him in the dinning room with an affectionate ruffling of his hair. “Try to stay out of trouble, pet. I’ll send for you when it’s time to retire for the evening.” The blowjob seemed to have been enough to calm the Malfoy patriarch at least for the day.

Harry waited for several long minutes, counting in his head, until he was sure Lucius had left the dining room and would not return. He tiptoed out of the room, checking the hallway for any sign of movement. Seeing none, he stole across the hall to ugly decorative vase in which he had stashed his book before dinner.

Letting his feet guide him once more, Harry made his way back out to the gardens, where he opened the book in front of him, studying it as though it would answer all of his questions.

“Why here?” he asked the book. “Why the gardens? Why this book? What am I missing?”

Not surprisingly, the book did not answer.

Harry stood up and began pacing across the patio. He made several laps, trying to dispel his anger at an inanimate object. The book had not done anything to him, nor could it help him. He made another lap, stopped at the far end of the patio, turned, and stared at the book. He was about to cross back to the table when something silver in the hedge caught his eye.

Furring his brows, Harry walked over to the hedge, keeping his eye trained on the silver piece. He peered into the hedge, but could only make out a small portion of the silver object. Reaching into the hedge, slowly, carefully, Harry’s fingertips came into contact with the cold, smooth surface of a box no larger than his hand. He wrapped his fingers around the small metal box and pulled it out of the hedge. He recognized it instantly.

The box was Draco’s. It had been a gift from his mother, the year he got his Hogwarts letter. The box itself was a simple metal box, but on top of the lid was an ornately carved dragon with the word “Draconis” etched beneath it. Harry ran his fingertips over the picture and the name, holding back the emotion boiling inside of him. How or why Draco’s box was in the hedge was a complete mystery.

Striding back to the table, Harry set the box down gently. He traced his fingers over the contours several more times, before deciding emphatically that he would open the box. Maybe it was a signal from Draco. Or maybe it’s a trap planted by Lucius, his mind countered. Desperately trying to quell the raging voices inside his head, Harry gently eased the lid open.

The only thing in the box, atop the soft green velvet was a worn piece of parchment. With trembling fingers, Harry unfolded the well-fingered note to reveal Draco’s familiar script:

_Harry,_

If you are reading this note, it means that I am no longer with you. I can only be thankful that you’ve found my box. That particular piece of the hedge has been warded against anyone but you finding my box, so I’ve little doubt that this note is in hands other than yours.

That being said, I can only guess at the reason for such a situation as this. No doubt, my father found out I was a turn-coat and had me disposed of. Please don’t fret, love. I would much rather die loving you and standing up for my beliefs than cower at the feet of a maniac.

The one true condolence to my passing is your survival. I know you always said you’d rather it be you than me, Gryffindor bravery and all that, but I want you to know that your survival means the survival of wizard-kind. My survival means the survival of the Malfoy line. That’s not the kind of survival I want to promote.

I must end my letter here, but I want you to know that I love you with every inch of my soul, Harry Potter. But you have to go on without me. Memento vivere, dear Harry, remember to live.

Eternally Yours,

Draco

Harry folded the note as gently as he had unfolded it, carefully keeping the tears rolling down his cheeks from smudging the ink. Lovingly, almost reverently, Harry placed the note back in its box, closed the lid, and set the box safely back inside the hedge.


	6. Chapter 6

True to his word, Lucius sent for Harry that night when it was time for bed. Harry had spent the evening in the gardens, feeling as though he was somehow closer to Draco and closer to his old life, just by being there.

He opened the door to Lucius’s bedroom and his hand clenched the door knob. In front of him, Lucius lay across the bed wearing only a black silk dressing gown and looking for all the world like an advertisement for sex against the expensive white bedclothes.

“Come in, pet,” Lucius urged, sitting up. His long hair was free from its usual binding and fell in soft layers across his shoulders.

Harry swallowed hard and forced himself to release the doorknob. He stood awkwardly, clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides, unsure what Lucius wanted him to do.

“Come here, little one.”

By sheer force of will, Harry made himself walk toward the man, stopping a few decimetres in front of him.

Lucius wrapped his long elegant fingers around Harry’s hips and pulled him closer, until the boy stood between his spread thighs. He reached up and trailed those long pale fingers down Harry’s cheek.

“You’re doing so very well, pet.”

Harry wasn’t sure if Lucius meant the evening, or their previous encounter. He swallowed again and said nothing.

“I think a reward is in order, yeah?”

Instantly, Harry’s body froze. Lucius wanted another blowjob. He tried to even out his breathing so the other man wouldn’t detect his fear.

However, Lucius stood up and eased him back against the mountain of pillows on top of the bed. Harry’s eyes grew wider in fear. Lucius was going to make him take his cock while he was lying down – with no hope of breath.

Before Harry could voice his protest, Lucius began pulling at his shirt. Dazed and confused, Harry sat up slightly, allowing the older man to remove the garment. He repeated the process with Harry’s linen trousers, leaving the boy naked and shivering against his massive bed.

Lucius stood up, crossed the room, and retrieved a small sapphire bottle from the drawer next to the bed. He returned to Harry, giving the naked form an approving once-over.

“You look so delicious spread out across my bed, pet.” With only a silk dressing gown to cover him, Lucius’s arousal was very evident through the thin material.

Harry licked his lips nervously. He had no idea what this man had up his sleeve tonight. The only thing he was sure of was that he needed to play by the rules or he would be lead straight back to the punishment room – the last place (next to Lucius Malfoy’s bedroom) he wanted to be at the moment.

Lucius set the vial next to Harry’s head, a sure indication that it was meant for use on his pet. He stretched his tall frame next to Harry’s, making the boy look even smaller. Raising his wand, Lucius transfigured a slip of cloth that Harry hadn’t noticed he was holding into a blindfold.

“Just relax, pet. This is supposed to be enjoyable – it’s certainly not a punishment,” he said, while fastening the black silk around Harry’s head, effectively covering his eyes.

Other than a small whimper, Harry made no protest of the binding.

Harry felt the bed shift and suddenly he was aware that Lucius had stood up. Blindly, he turned his head from side to side. Being blindfolded was one thing, but being blindfolded and alone scared the lights of out him.

“Master?” he called out timidly, silently hoping the man hadn’t left, while simultaneously hoping he wouldn’t be punished for talking out of turn if the man hadn’t.

“I’m still here, pet. I’m not going to leave you.” The voice came from the foot of the bed. Harry turned his face to the sound, like a moth to a flame.

Then he felt the first touch of Lucius’s hands on his feet. Clearly, he had poured some of the oil into his hands and it warmed nicely on their skin. Then a spicy flowery fragrance hit Harry’s senses and he took a deep breath despite himself. From the foot of the bed, Lucius chucked, a rare sound.

“It’s sandlewood and jasmine, pet. This particular potion is a combination of a relaxation potion and a powerful aphrodisiac.”

Harry nodded to himself, his thoughts gliding over the words, not taking them in completely because he was so distracted by the warm relaxing sensation of Lucius caressing his skin and the intoxicating smell of the potion he was using. Relaxation potion, Harry thought to himself, just what I need.

The sinfully soft hands moved up Harry’s legs, covering them in more of that delicious-smelling oil. Lucius’s hands paused her and there, massaging the kinks in Harry’s aching muscles. Despite the blindfold, Harry closed his eyes, allowing himself to succumb to the sensations the other man was giving him. He was so relaxed, he almost couldn’t bring himself to care about anything.

Lucius worked his way up Harry’s prone body, carefully avoiding his bourgeoning erection. Instead, he smoothed his hands, palm-down up Harry’s flanks, the way one would soothe a skittish colt.

Despite himself, Harry let out a whimper and arched his body into the touch.

“Like that, pet?”

Lucius dragged his hands back down Harry’s sides, elicit the same response from the brunette. He pulled his hands away briefly, coming back with a renewed abundance of oil. Using only his fingertips, Lucius spread oil around each of Harry’s nipples.

To Harry, it felt like he was trailing liquid fire over his skin, only this fire was like a direct line to his groin.

Harry’s arms came next. Each hand was paid its own special attention, down to the quick-bitten fingernails.

When every inch of Harry’s front was covered in oil, Lucius gently urged the boy to his stomach. He smoothed more oil into Harry’s skin, causing the boy to become nearly delirious with need.

Harry attempted to relieve the pressure by rubbing himself into the sheets.

“That’s it, pet,” Lucius encouraged, stroking Harry’s back. He pressed himself against Harry’s body, groaning swiftly at the skin-on-skin contact. He wrapped one strong arm around the brunette, using the leverage to pull Harry up to his hands and knees.

Harry cried out softly at the sudden loss of friction against his weeping cock. He thrust his hips uselessly into the empty air. Behind him, Lucius poured a steady stream of warm oil down Harry’s lower back and into his cleft. He smoothed his hands over the full globes, spreading the oil generously. He circled his thumbs gently, prising Harry open to reveal his hidden entrance.

“Just relax, pet,” was all the warning Harry got before Lucius thrust two well-oiled fingers into his body.

Harry cried out, but Lucius found the spot inside him that turned his cry of surprise to that of passion. Lucius oiled Harry’s insides just long enough to get him ready. Steadying his hands on Harry’s hips, Lucius angled his cockhead against Harry’s hole. He rocked gently a couple of times until the head of his cock breached Harry’s body.

Harry let out a low groan, gripping the bedclothes beneath them. Taking that as an affirmative sign, Lucius pressed himself in further, until his balls sat snugly against Harry’s. With an oil-drenched hand, Lucius reached down and took Harry into his palm. Harry’s erection had begun to flag, but as soon as Lucius grabbed him, he hardened almost immediately.

Lucius began thrusting in time with the strokes he made with his hand. Harry pressed back eagerly, groaning low in his throat. He spilled himself in a matter of minutes. Lucius wasn’t far behind. He came hard, biting down on Harry’s shoulder as he pumped his release deep into the smaller man’s bowels. His grip on Harry’s hips was so tight, there would undoubtedly be bruises in the morning.

The pair stayed in the same position for the span of several breaths, Harry almost spasmodically gripping the sinfully soft bedclothes, Lucius placing soft kisses along his shoulders and neck in a parody of romance. He slid his softening member out of Harry’s body and the boy could feel the warm trickle of semen leaking out of himself. He clenched his cheeks together, but Lucius mistook the action for disappointment.

“Still needy, little one?” Lucius breathed hotly into Harry’s ear, as he traced his index finger down Harry’s crack. However, he stopped just short of the entrance, and instead removed Harry’s blindfold. “I’m afraid that’s all I’m going to be able to give you tonight, pet.”

He gathered Harry in his arms and pulled the duvet over their rapidly cooling bodies. Despite feeling boneless due to Lucius’s oil, Harry didn’t fall asleep until Lucius’s breathing had evened out, and even then it was a fitful night. He was surprised then, when he jerked awake and saw sunlight streaming through the gauzy white curtains over the window.

Harry was still in the same position as when he fell asleep, only this time the warm appendage nestled between the cheeks of his arse was hard and heavy. He scooted an inch forward, trying to dislodge the unwelcome intruder.

Lucius let out a soft sigh and Harry’s movements stilled immediately. He held still, in case Lucius woke up and realized what Harry was doing. The older man sighed again, before rolling over onto his other side.

Harry did not waste an extra minute easing himself out of the bed and into the bath. Only when the door was shut did he allow himself to relax. Looking into the mirror, he traced his fingers around the bite mark on his shoulder. The skin was raised and red in a neat little circle replicated in the pattern of Lucius’s teeth. Harry also noted the matching fingertip-shaped bruises on his hips with disgust.

He turned on the shower and stepped into the hot spray. He lathered himself with soap, scrubbing furiously at his skin, as though he could erase the memory of the previous night. The shower door opened and a blast of cold air startled him from his thoughts. Two strong arms circled his waist.

“If you wanted a shower, pet, you should have said so.”

But Harry could tell by his tone that the man was anything but displeased to find his pet naked and wet. Harry couldn’t make the words for in his mouth, so he said nothing as he was pushed to his knees. Obligingly, he allowed Lucius’s cock to slip between his lips. It took longer than the first time, probably because Lucius’s appetite had already been satisfied the night before.

Harry held on until Lucius spilled himself down his throat. He left the shower almost as quickly as he appeared.

“Dress in the clothing on the bed and meet me in the library when you’re finished,” were Lucius’s parting words.

Scowling at the door, Harry picked up the soap once again. He scrubbed at his skin a second time until it felt nearly raw. But the soap did nothing to erase the taste of Lucius from his tongue.

With a fluffy white towel wrapped firmly around his naked body, Harry walked tentatively back into the bedroom. Seeing that Lucius was nowhere in sight, he felt secure enough to drop his towel. However, when he saw what Lucius left for him to wear, he had the sudden urge to pull the towel back around his shoulders.

With no other option in sight, Harry donned the ridiculously tight, low-cut trousers. The material was light beige that contrasted nicely with his bronze skin. They would have been manageable if they weren’t cut so low that Harry’s pubic hair (the little that Lucius allowed to remain) was visible over the waistband. Undoubtedly there was a sticking charm on them because Harry found that once he got the trousers on, they wouldn’t come back off.

“Drizzle?” he called uncertainly, fiddling with the o-ring at the hollow of his throat.

With a loud pop! the house elf appeared in front of him. “Drizzle is to be taking Master’s pet to the library.”

Harry followed Drizzle through the labyrinth of corridors and stairways, noting with utter dissatisfaction that he still had no idea how to navigate the Manor, save for Lucius’s study and the punishment room.

Drizzle left him outside the library with another low bow. As Harry was about to push the door open, he heard someone inside the room say his name and he stopped. He pressed his ear against the door and recognized the voice as belonging to the doctor he met the first night he woke up with Lucius.

“Sir, I would not advise that course of action.”

“Then how about I simply obliviate him and start over?”

“Sir, I would not advise—“

Harry had heard enough. He stepped into the room, silencing the doctor at once. Nervously, he glanced from the doctor to his master.

“Come, pet,” Lucius said, beckoning him forward with a single gloved finger.

Obediently, Harry shuffled forward, mindful of the collar around his neck and the too-low trousers at his hips. He felt like a piece of meat on display, a feeling Lucius was surely trying to employ.

When he reached the blond man, Lucius pulled the black leather lead from inside his robes and clipped it to Harry’s collar.

“Kneel.”

Harry sank gracefully to his knees, his eyes automatically lowering to the floor.

“As you can see,” Lucius continued, as though his conversation had never been interrupted, “he is quite obedient. However, he is not the pet I have been grooming for the last two years. Not only does he have no memory of our time together, but he does not—“ Lucius paused, an odd look crossing his aristocratic features—“feel for me the way he used to. I want to know how much longer this is going to take, or I may have to take matters into my own hands.”

The doctor smoothed his grey moustache nervously. “Sir, as I’ve said earlier, there is no telling how soon his memory shall return. Placing him in his usual routine is the best course of action.’

Lucius pursed his lips. “I gave him the book.”

“With all due respect, Sir, maybe the book isn’t enough.”

“Indeed.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Very well. You make take your leave.”

The doctor stood and bowed. “Good day, Mr. Malfoy.”

The door clicked shut, leaving Harry and Lucius alone. The latter drummed his fingertips in a steady staccato against the leather armchair, in which he sat. The former stayed completely still, afraid he might incur Lucius’s wrath if he did otherwise. He physically jerked in surprised when Lucius began to cad his hand through Harry’s thick locks.

“What am I to do with you?”

“I don’t know, Master,” Harry replied, his eyes darting up anxiously.

“That was a rhetorical question, pet,” Lucius replied, chuckling.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry spent the rest of the day on the windowsill he found previously, contemplating the little he heard of the conversation between Lucius and the doctor.  
  
He does not feel for me the way he used to, Lucius had said.  
  
“The way I used to?” Harry wondered out loud. “How could I possibly hate him less than before?”  
  
He pressed his forehead to the cool windowpane.  
  
Outside, the rain hammered down on the Manor grounds like a thousand shards of glass breaking over the land. Even the weather seemed as moose as Harry felt. Lucius hadn’t felt the need to give him any more clothing and Harry shivered with the chill of the drafty old house. He drew his legs up to his bare chest, wrapping his arms around his knees.  
  
I gave him the book.  
  
Harry fingered the well-thumbed volume at his side. Despite Lucius’s insistent belief that it held the key to Harry’s predicament, the slight man had yet to find even a spark of his memory among the pages of magical travel. He was too afraid to ask Lucius for any information regarding his “previous” life for fear of punishment, but it didn’t help his lack of understand.  
  
If only there was someone he could talk to. . .  
  
Draco was dead and he was trapped in the Malfoy family home with Lucius. Even if he could send an owl, who would he write to? He didn’t even know if any of his friends were still alive. Everything was so hopeless without his memory.  
  
Inside his study, Lucius paced back and forth in front of a seated Severus. The blond man’s normally composed demeanour was clearly breaking. Several strands of hair had slipped from their band, but Lucius paid them no notice.  
  
“Perhaps you should allow me an audience with the boy. I’m sure I could increase the recovery speed of his memory. After all, I’m quite convincing,” Severus said, leaning back into his chair comfortably, a snifter of brandy in one hand.  
  
“No.” Lucius’s reply was automatic. “I’ve already told you that Doctor Talbott informed me that would do more harm than good. Besides, we both know you make him nervous. He can’t even hold a teacup in your presence.”  
  
Severus’s lip curled in a sneer. “Perhaps that is because you’ve been too lenient. The boy needs discipline.”  
  
“Or perhaps you need your own pet to occupy your time,” Lucius said, rounding on the darker man. “But our Lord hasn’ t seen fit to give you one, has he? Or are you still angry that you were unable to get your hands on Weasley? Dolohov’s loyalty never wavered. He never fell to his knees in front of that muggle-lover Dumbledore begging for protection. How dare you, a traitor to the Dark, judge that which the Dark Lord has seen fit to gift me.”  
  
“Remember this Lucius: the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. If that little toy of yours doesn’t get his memory back soon, I’m sure the Dark Lord will have no problem repossessing his merchandise.”  
  
Lucius walked around his desk slowly and took a seat. “Have you come here to mock me? Because I’m sure you know I will be damned if I’ll give him up without a fight. And I’ll kill you before I allow you to have him.”  
  
Severus took a long sip of brandy. “I just want to ensure that you’re aware of the predicament in which you find yourself. I have merely come to offer my assistance and support.”  
  
“I want him back, Severus. I want him back, but I am not willing to let you wreck his mind. He’s fragile enough as it is.”  
  
“You love him.”  
  
Lucius was silent. His face remained impassive.  
  
“Is that all you’ve come for? I grow tired of this tedious repartee.”  
  
“Indeed.” Severus stood and drained his glass. “I’ll show myself out.”  
  
Lucius found Harry on the windowsill. He let his footfalls sound loud enough, so as not to frighten the boy. Nonetheless, Harry jumped when Lucius placed his warm hands on his pet’s shoulders.  
  
“You’re cold, pet.”  
  
Harry shrugged noncommittally. He kept his forehead pressed against the cold windowpane.  
  
“I apologize for keeping you underclothed. I was afraid Doctor Talbott may have needed to examine you, so I found clothing unnecessary. Here,” Lucius removed his outer robe and placed it about Harry’s shoulders, leaving himself in only a waistcoat and trousers.  
  
Still Harry said nothing.  
  
“Pet?” Lucius asked, turning Harry’s chin to look at the boy. “Are you ill?”  
  
“No, Master,” was the soft reply.  
  
“Come, then. Let us retire.”  
  
Although Lucius helped him off the ledge, Harry half-expected the man to clip the lead to his collar and make him crawl back to the bedroom. But Lucius did no such thing. Harry felt odd, shuffling along in his bare feet with Lucius’s robe draped about himself like a cloak.  
  
Lucius said nothing during their walk through the Manor, and Harry found the silence oddly comforting. When they passed through the bedroom and into the bath, Harry found his heart speeding up. It was banging such a heavy tattoo, he almost feared it would jump out of his chest and onto the floor.  
  
The bath was already filled with soap bubbles. Harry tried to remain still as the robe was pulled from his shoulders, leaving him once in the skin-tight trousers. Behind him, Lucius whispered the counter-charm and peeled the material off his body.  
  
“I think a bath is in order, hey pet?”  
  
“Yes, Master,” Harry answered, unwilling to try Lucius’s patience by refusing to answer a direct question.  
  
“If you need anything, just call for Drizzle.”  
  
Harry heard the sound of Luicus’s shoes on the polished marble floor and then the door clicked shut. Surprised, he spun around, not believing his ears. He stared at door for a moment before turning back to the bath.  
  
Slowly, he lowered himself into the hot water, hissing slightly as the warmth seeped into his chilled skin. After a long soak, in which he found himself enjoying the different shampoos and potions in the taps, Harry wrapped himself in another of the towels that seemed to cover him from head to toe. He re-entered the bedroom and found Lucius sitting in one the chairs next to the occasional table.  
  
“Master?” Harry ventured, shifting his weight nervously.  
  
“You may dress in the gown I have laid out and get into bed.”  
  
Harry nodded, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. He dropped the towel and pulled the nightshirt over his head as quickly as possible. It was softer than anything he’d ever felt; it was like wrapping himself in a warm blanket. Dutifully, he climbed onto the enormous bed, feeling very small.  
  
Lucius approached and Harry squeezed his eyes shut, but the man did not touch. He pulled the blankets up to Harry’s chin and kissed him gently on the forehead.  
  
“Sleep well, little one.”  
  
With a whispered nox, the man was gone.  
  
Harry lay in the dark, blinking up at the ceiling. Nobody had ever tucked him in before. He rolled onto his side, blinking back tears that threatened to fall.  
  
Next morning, Harry woke with a start. He slept fitfully, despite having the bed to himself all night. Oddly enough, it seemed almost – empty – without Lucius. Harry pushed the thought aside and stood up. The note on the bedside table instructed him to dress and meet Lucius in the study. This time, he was given a tunic and trousers.  
  
He found his way to Lucius’s study (the whole five steps) without Drizzle’s help.  
  
“Come in,” Lucius called, just before Harry’s knuckles hit the door. Tentatively, he peeked around the door and shuffled into the room.  
  
Behind an imposing desk with stacks of paperwork scattered across the top sat Lucius.  
  
“Have a seat, pet,” the man said, gesturing to the two leather chairs in front of his desk.  
  
Keeping his eyes on the floor, Harry sat down. His heart was racing. He felt like he’d been called to the principal’s office like when he was in primary school. What had he done now? Nervously, he twisted his finger around the ring in his collar.  
  
“Look at me, pet.”  
  
Harry slowly raised his impossibly green eyes to meet Lucius’s serious gaze.  
  
“As I’m sure you’ve realized, it doesn’t seem as though your memory is currently restoring itself.”  
  
Oh, no.  
  
Harry’s stomach plummeted.  
  
“I have tried being both firm as well as lenient with you, but neither course of action has had the desired effect.”  
  
Harry could only sit, wide-eyed and silent, as Lucius declared his fate.  
  
“That leaves me with only two options. Either I can take you to the Dark Lord—“  
  
“Voldemort?” Harry asked, before he could stop himself.  
  
A sharp crack on his cheek twisted his head to the left.  
  
“How dare you speak his name!” Lucius’s voice was cold and deadly.  
  
Tears of pain and humiliation began to pool in Harry’s eyes.  
  
“Apologize, this instant.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Master,” Harry replied, his voice cracking on the last word. He blinked, sending a cascade of salty tears down his reddened cheeks.  
  
“Very well,” Lucius said, continuing as though his pet was not sitting in front of him, desperately trying to muffle his hitching breaths. “As I was saying, I can either take you to the Dark Lord,” here he paused to see if Harry would react. The boy sniffed and said nothing. “Or I can have Severus examine you here. Now, I know neither of these options appeal to you, but I thought I’d give you the choice.”  
  
Harry nodded, tears drying on his cheeks as he struggled to get his breathing back under control. “I would rather see Pro-Snape.” This time, he caught himself before he accidently earned himself another slap.  
  
“I figured as much,” Lucius answered, leaning back in his chair. He studied the boy for a long moment.  
  
Silently, Harry asked to be dismissed. He had so many questions, but. . .  
  
“You have always been such a mystery to me, little one,” the man said suddenly.  
  
“Sir?” Harry asked tentatively.  
  
Lucius continued, “Ever since that first day I brought you home. You don’t remember, of course. But you were so innocent. That’s not to say that I regret your current state, but you’re certainly not the pet I’ve been training for the last two years.”  
  
“I’m sorry Master.” And truly he was sorry. Even if he chose to believe Lucius’s, he still had no memory of how he got to the Manor.  
  
“Of course you are,” Lucius answered, with a great sigh.  
  
“Master?” Harry asked, his voice high and unusual, even to his own ears. Hopefully he hadn’t just earned himself a trip to the punishment room.  
  
“Yes, pet?”  
  
Now was his chance. He could finally ask Lucius—  
  
“Why didn’t you come to bed last night?”  
  
So much for getting his most pressing questions answered.  
  
A rare smile spread across Lucius’s face. “Did you miss me?” he asked gently.  
  
Harry only nodded, not trusting his voice.  
  
“Come here, dove.”  
  
Surprising himself, Harry stood and walked around the desk. He allowed Lucius to pull him into the older man’s lap. Harry buried his face in the soft Fabric of Lucius’s waistcoat, inhaling his Master’s expensive cologne. Lucius kissed the top of his head and wrapped his arms around Harry’s small form. For the first time since he woke up as Luicus Malfoy’s captive, Harry felt safe. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift into a peaceful sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Snape was standing in the library waiting when Lucius arrived. Snape had outdone himself this day, dressing in the full regalia of his old teaching robes. He looked every bit the imposing Potions Master Lucius needed him to be. Severus spun around when he heard the door open.  
  
“Have you forgotten something?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
Lucius made an irritated noise, glaring back through the open door. “Come,” he growled, yanking at the lead in his hand.   
  
Harry stumbled into view, nearly falling on this hands and knees, but Lucius caught him in tie. He pulled the boy up by his wrists, setting him to rights on his feet.   
  
“Not very well trained, are we, Potter?”  
  
Harry turned his head to regard the other occupant in the room. He stared for a moment, before a sudden realization began to dawn in his unusually bright eyes. “Master!” Harry cried suddenly, as he attempted to claw his way up Lucius’s body.   
  
“What is the meaning of this?” Lucius snarled, taking Harry by the wrists again.   
  
“Master, please! Please, just – I –“ The boy was nearly hysterical.   
  
“Looks like you’ve been too soft on the boy after all, Lucius, He won’t obey the simplest command. Even a dog knows how to sit and stay.”  
  
“No! Master – you don’t understand!” Harry shouted, struggling in Lucius’s grasp.  
  
“Please excuse us, Severus,” the blond aristocrat said, his gaze never leaving the boy in front of him. “Let’s go,” he said, throwing Harry to the floor.   
  
He pulled on the lead roughly, choking Harry all the way to the punishment room. He walked so fast Harry alternated between stumbling to keep up and allowing himself to be dragged until Lucius sent a stinging hex his way.   
  
The iron doors of the punishment room slammed shut. At the end of the leash, Harry cowered as far as he could by curling himself into a ball.   
  
“Master,” he croaked, but Lucius cast a silencing spell at his slave, effectively eliminating any chance of communication.   
  
With a few more spells, he had Harry bent forward over a horse, bound, gagged and blindfolded. His slave contained for the moment, Lucius stepped back to remove his gloves. He hadn't even broken a sweat.   
  
“I would ask you how many strokes you think you deserve, but I've already gagged you for your own good. I shall make the decision myself.”  
  
He paused, walking around Harry's upended body in slow, deliberate steps. “I should think 10 for insolence, 10 for speaking out of turn...” He selected a riding crop from the collection on the wall. “And 50 for insulting my dearest friend.”  
  
Instead of thrashing like Lucius expected him to, Harry remained shock-still.   
  
Lucius swung the crop a few times, testing both the crop and Harry's reaction. Surprisingly, he remained still until the 25th stripe. His arse was on fire. Lucius hadn't even started on his back or thighs. Harry squirmed as much as his bonds would allow.  
  
Lucius gave a quick swat to Harry's bollocks, which hung between his spread thighs. “If you move again, I'll double the number of lashes and adhere them to your cock and bollocks.”   
  
Harry's movements stilled immediately.   
  
Lucius stepped back for a moment. He replaced the crop in exchange for a long, black whip. It was a vicious instrument, which is why Lucius rarely used it. But Harry's behaviour that day made it a necessity.   
  
After the fifth stroke with the whip came the tears. Harry passed out and had to be revived three separate times on the way to 70 lashes. By the time Lucius finished, the boy's back, arse and thighs were a mess of welts, bruises, and in some cases, streaks of blood.   
  
Replacing the whip, Lucius vanished the gag, blindfold, restraints, and horse, causing Harry to fall to the floor in a pitiful, crying heap. He was far too much of a mess to fuck. For once, the thought did not even appeal to Lucius.   
  
“Master,” Harry managed to gasp, lifting his watery green eyes to the aristocrat.   
  
Lucius just sneered at him. He delivered a swift kick to Harry's stomach. “You disgust me.” He left the room without a backward glance, mercifully leaving the door open.   
  
It took Harry nearly 10 minutes of panting on the floor in pain before he was able to pull himself up to his hands and knees. Taking deep breaths to deal with the throbbing along his back (and now stomach), Harry crawled down the hallway to Lucius's rooms, where he collapsed, exhausted.   
  
  
Frustrated and still not satisfied, Lucius stomped into his quarters the next morning after spending a nearly sleepless night in one of the many guest rooms. He frowned when he saw that the bed had not been slept in. He had deliberately avoided his bedroom to give Harry time to think about his misbehaviour. He turned on his heel to check the punishment room, but paused when he saw that the door to his closet was open.   
  
His closet was practically another room all its own, with a small set of stairs leading up to to a twelve-foot-wide space that wound itself around the perimeter of his bedroom. It used to be a favourite haunt of Harry's before he lost his memory. Lucius was careful not to let himself entertain that train of thought. Still, he had to check to see if Harry was inside.   
  
He ascended the stairs and nearly stumbled over the bundle at the top. Curled in several of Lucius's kneazle-fur coats was Harry. As if sensing Lucius's presence, his eyes opened and he blinked up at the man.   
  
“May I have permission to speak, Master?” Harry's voice was small and hoarse.   
  
“You may,” Lucius answered, his tone even and without emotion.   
  
“The day before I lost my memory, I told you that I could not imagine life without you, and I meant it. You have given me a new life, and taught me how to love. I remember everything.” He hadn't moved, but his eyes were pleading, begging Lucius to believe him.   
  
But Lucius's eyes remained cold and impassive.   
  
“For what reason were you trying to run away, then? Did you think you had fooled me? I saw the book on magical travel – I gave it to you!”  
  
Harry flinched as Lucius's voice rose in anger. “I was not, I swear! Please, Master, please listen to me! Hear me out before you make your decision, please.”   
  
Lucius stared down at his slave, his face impassive. “Very well.”  
  
“When I swear to you that I was not trying to run away, I am being truthful. The day you found me on the edge of the property, I had been in the garden reading like I normally do. Severus found me there and we began chatting. It seemed normal at first, until he placed his hand on my thigh and attempted to force himself on me. When I told him by body was not mine to give, he called me a liar and a whore. He pressed the issue and eventually I had no choice but to run. He chased me to the edge of the wards and that was when I blacked out.”  
  
“And the book?”  
  
At this, Harry looked down, a shy smile on his face. “I had hoped that you might take me with you to France if I knew how to apparate. I couldn't practice, of course, but...”  
  
In one swift motion, Lucius bent down and picked Harry up, furs and all. He deposited the bundle on the bed, laying down beside his pet. Harry was naked inside the fur, which caused Lucius to rumble with pleasure. He stood briefly to remove his own clothing, before laying back down beside Harry.   
  
He stroked the boy from flank to thigh, luxuriating in the feel of smooth skin under his fingertips. He whispered a healing spell and all the welts and bruises from the previous night disappeared.   
  
Harry sighed in relief.   
  
Lucius summoned the small pot of oil from the bureau. He caught it easily and set it on the bed between them. He urged Harry to roll onto his side, facing away from Lucius. Harry did so, drawing his topmost leg to his chest. His cock was already completely hard.   
  
Lucius coated two of his fingers with oil and pressed them to Harry's hole. “Let me in pet.”  
  
Harry exhaled and the fingers slid smoothly inside. Lucius pumped his fingers a few times, just enough to get Harry wet. He pulled his fingers out, to which Harry mewled softly. Lucius hushed him as he lined his cock up and _pressed_ inside. Harry arched his back, pushing himself further onto Lucius's cock. The other man placed a hand on Harry's hip, thrusting gently, but deeply.   
  
“Sir, sir,” Harry panted, hands scrambling for Lucius's hand, his leg, anything. “I'm not going to last!”  
  
“That's all right, pet, let yourself go,” Lucius replied smoothly, angling his thrusts so the head of his cock pushed against Harry's prostate with every thrust.   
  
Harry came silently, without either of them touching his cock. The tight clenching of Harry's body caused Lucius to follow in short order. Lucius bit down on Harry's shoulder hard enough to mark, but Harry just kept pressing himself back against the man.   
  
Lucius pulled his softening cock out of Harry's body and, rolling over, pulled the boy to his chest. He pulled the blankets around them, after banishing the fur, and they slept.   
  
Later in the afternoon, while Lucius “attended” to Severus, Harry made his way to the garden and retrieved Draco's box from the hedge. He re-read Draco's note again, before placing it back inside, along with his own.   
  
_Draco,_  
  
I know you will never read this in my world, but maybe you will read it where you are. I've been with your father for two years, now. He's been good to me... and I love him. Recently, I lost my memory because Severus chased me to the wards in an effort to bed me. Your father was (mostly) patient as he coaxed me back to myself.   
  
As for Severus, well, let's just say the Dementor's Kiss would have been preferable to Lucius's retaliation.   
  
Thank you for your letter, Draco, it has brought me hope and light in the times of darkness. Memento vivere.   
  
Love,   
  
Harry


End file.
